Seriously: Year One
by SASandJRtheOver-Editors
Summary: 10 year-old Myra Jackson. All-American and ready for anything... or so she thinks. Grumpy old uncles, maybe-friends, stupid pranks, even more stupid boys who pull them, and being the youngest in the year doesn't help either. Based on the fanfics by Jaisler. Rated T (just in case) for 11 year-olds calling other 11 year-olds arrogant, bullying toe rags. Story by JR.
1. The Badger House: Sub-chapter: 1

**A/N:Hey, guys! What's up? JR, here, with my first story, ****_Seriously_**** (the titles' probably gonna change 'cause there are already so many fanfics with that name). First off, I need to tell you guys some things in the form of a # list!**

**#1) My chapters are SUPER LONG! Seriously, they're, like, 10 pages. So I've divided them into sub-chapters. I'm going to try for about 3 or 4 sub-chapters per full chapter. I would post the whole thing at once but I like to keep you guys guessing. Plus, it's a lot easier to write 3 or 4 short chapters over a long period of time then to write one 10 page chapter in a short period of time. Give me a break. I'm in high school.**

**#2) I'm so sorry if I get some words wrong, such as misspelling spells or character's names. I'll try my best but, honestly, I have a really hard time with spelling so please cut me some slack in that area. If you do notice any mistakes, whether it be continuity or just minor spelling errors, feel free to PM me a notice so it can be fixed ASAP. :)**

**#3) And last, but defiantly not least, I'd like to give a shout-out to Jaisler, author of the 'To Solemnly Swear' years. Jaisler in an inspiration to me. This story sprouted from their stories and I hope I do justice to such a phenomenally written series and an even more phenomenal author. There. Jaisler, I hope I made you blush. :3**

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! If I did, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, and Hedwig would still be alive... excuse me! *bawls eyes out in a corner***

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_Sub-Ch.1: Welcome to London_

'Oh hector, this is awkward.' was pretty much the first thing that came to Myra Jackson's mind as she sat next to a large trunk in King's Cross Station, London, England. She glanced around again, hoping to spot the tall, balding man she had only ever seen in old photographs.

'Maybe he forgot?' she thought.

Myra glanced around nervously as groups of hurried people passed. Many stared, unabashed, at the strange-looking girl, making her feel more foreign and out of place than ever. A group of kids that looked to be in various years of high school whispered as they passed her bench. She only caught a couple words that meant nothing to her like 'septic' and 'dekko' before they moved on, still snickering behind their hands. She resolved to look these up if she ever got the chance. Myra sat there for another half hour before she reached her limit. She was just about to give up all hopes of finding her uncle when, there he was.

Tall and now completely bald, Andrew Curdle was a very intimidating man. He lived alone, save for his many servants, in a large, many leveled mansion that he had built himself on Blakely Lane just outside of Cokeworth and had, from what her parents told her before she left, not been very pleased with the sudden appearance of the niece he'd never met. He, like most of the older men she had observed while waiting in the station, had a thick white mustache and minuscule spectacles perched on his thin porcelain nose. His grey eyes glittered in a sharp nerve-racking way that could only mean one thing: no funny stuff. Myra gulped as he approached, a slight limp halting his otherwise smooth strides. When he was a couple meters away, she jumped up and grabbed the handle of her trunk to show him she was ready when he was.

"Myra Jackson, I presume?"

She nodded, mutely.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he said, sharply.

"Yes, I mean, no. I mean… I'm Myra." She stammered.

"Hm." He cocked an eyebrow as she blushed. "I thought you'd look more your age. Very good, come along."

He looked down at her apparel with a distasteful eye, making her wish more than ever that she had changed from her white bell bottoms and navy tank top into something a little less 'obviously American'. She observed her navy sandals with more interest then needed and didn't look up again until her uncle had given a 'hum' of disapproval and started to walk back the way he'd come. She swallowed and started lugging her heavy trunk after Uncle Andrew, struggling to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.

"Now, as long as you're living with me, I will expect my rules to be followed. I will give you a briefing once we reach the house. I don't want to make more of a scene than necessary. I would have thought that you would have been a little less… juvenile." He stuck his nose up at Myra's getup.

"I'm sorry." Myra said, then after a moment's thought added, "Sir."

Uncle Andrew stopped and looked her over properly, eyebrows raised. Then after a moment,

"There's hope for you yet."

He grabbed the handle of her trunk and started to walk again.

"Thanks." Myra said softly.

She followed his long strides as he walked into the parking lot. She helped him heave the heavy case into the trunk of his old yet surprisingly well cared for car. Myra then took a seat in the back and looked out the window at the large, majestic building. A twinge in her gut made her almost certain that she would see the place again. As they pulled out of the station's parking complex, Myra smiled and waved to a couple that had stopped to let them pass. They didn't smile or wave back.

"Yankee." Uncle Andrew muttered as he watched the smile slide from the girl's face.

"Uncle Andrew? Clue me in." Myra asked, turning to look at him in the rear view mirror. "Why does everyone here act like I'm a coconut or something?"

Uncle Andrew frowned at this; his brow furrowed, and glanced back at her again. Myra looked intently at him, obviously expecting an answer.

"May you please speak English?" he asked, annoyed.

"Um, why is everyone here so unfriendly?" she tried.

"Have you ever thought," he said, still obviously not wanting to talk. "That maybe you are too friendly and that everyone else is normal? Maybe you are the problem."

Myra tried to mask the hurt on her face but she couldn't stop a frown from appearing. She pressed her lips together in a line almost as thin as Andrew's and stared determinedly out the window again at nothing in particular, just to keep herself from speaking what was on her mind at the moment. The car ride was slow, due to traffic, and mostly silent with the exception of a couple dry coughs and snuffles from Myra, who seemed to have caught a slight cold, despite it being the middle of summer, from her hour and a half wait at the chilled station. Endless billows of smoke issued from the many grey buildings that stood packed so tightly together that Myra imagined it as a never-ending train of cement and stone. Myra grew bored of the dull-toned city and gazed drowsily at the never-ending gravel of the road that seemed to wind on and on.


	2. The Badger House: Sub-chapter: 2

**A/N: Hey, guys! It's me, JR, again! Well, I have a new sub-chapter for you! Yay! Enjoy! Also, I'd like to give a shout out to the only person who's reviewed so far, kittyhawk09! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. It makes me feel really good inside when someone likes what I've written! Here, kittyhawk09, have a cookie. I made them myself! (::) There you go! :3 **

**Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. JK! Get it? Like J.K Rowling... the person who DOES own Harry Potter... I-I'm gonna be over there... **

_Sub-Ch.2: What's with all the Badgers?_

"Um, Uncle Andrew?" she asked carefully, when it was nearing the end of the second hour. "Will we be there soon?"

As an answer, Uncle Andrew pursed his lips and turned yet another corner. Myra noticed it seemed to be getting increasingly greener as they went on. She was beginning to see less smoke and city and more foliage. She even spotted a small river that sparkled in the sunlight. She wondered if her uncle lived around here. There were five more minuets of silence before they arrived. They pulled up to a large wrought-iron gate, emblazoned with a delicate cursive 'C' that sat in the center of a half circle. Two stone gargoyles flanked either side. Myra had to squint to get a good look at them. She noticed that the statues were painted. They glinted impressively in the bright sunlight. She suddenly recognized the animal the statue represented. A badger. The creatures golden claws glinted and she swore the eyes of the closest one were following her as they pulled up to the gate.

"Boss statues." Myra muttered.

Immediately, two very formally dressed young men rushed out of a small cream-colored shack that sat to the right of the gate and pulled the heavy doors open just enough for the car to pass through unharmed. As they passed by the men at a snail's pace, Myra was able to get a good look at them through her window. They were both dressed in white dress shirts, black dress pants and dress shoes, the only splash of color being a yellow silk tie that was tucked in at the belt with what she guessed was the man's name stitched onto the front in black thread. They looked to be as well cared for as the car, with toned muscles that showed through the thin fabric of their shirts. Myra supposed this came from the amount of gate opening they needed to do. She chanced a small smile at the one nearest her; a good-sized man who looked to be around nineteen with neatly trimmed brown hair whose name was Davis, according to his tie. Myra was slightly surprised by the friendly grin and nod that she received. She beamed at him and blushed slightly when he chuckled at her obvious delight. Needless to say, she was still smiling when the car was parked in a double-leveled hut.

"Uncle Andrew?" Myra asked, unbuckling herself and leaning forward to rest on the passenger's seat in front of her. "Who were they?"

"The brunette was Blaine Davis and the blonde was Nicholas Kurt." He answered stiffly, climbing out of the car and closing the door gently.

Myra clambered out as well and slammed the door a little harder than she meant to, causing Andrew to flinch as the car rocked slightly from the impacted. She blushed and mumbled a hasty apology, tripping over a jack as she went to get her case from the trunk.

"Leave it!" Uncle Andrew nearly shouted as she went to open the trunk.

Myra froze and took a couple steps away from the car. While Uncle Andrew called for Davis and another servant named Mace, Myra stood as far from the car as the hut would allow. Davis and a young dark haired boy, just barely eighteen, who could only have been Mace hurried into the hut and carefully removed the luggage from the trunk, closing it just as gently as her uncle had. He let out the long breath that he had been holding in while they handled the heavy trunk.

"Call maintenance, would you." Uncle Andrew told Mace, who straightened when addressed. "Oh, and tell them to clean the seats too. Tell them to pay close attention to the back seats. And do make sure they lock up properly."

Myra glared, hurt, at her uncle and glanced at Davis who spared her a sympathetic look, still holding onto the handle of her trunk.

"Yes Sir, Mr. Curdle, sir." Mace said in a throaty voice, glancing slightly at Myra as well before hurrying off to a door at the far end of the neat yet slightly cluttered hut and ringing a golden bell that tinkled merrily for a few moments even after it had stopped moving.

"Um… Mr. Davis?" Myra asked sheepishly. "Is this the house?"

Davis laughed.

"No. This is the garage." He chuckled. "And, please, call me Blaine."

Myra gasped.

"This is the _garage_?" she said in an awed voice. "This place is bigger than my place back in Cali!"

He chuckled again as they set off, out of the garage and onto a paved road that led up a hill. It turned a corner at the top so the thick brown and yellow forestation on either side of the road blocked all views of where they would end up.

"Well, try not to wet yourself when you see the actual house." Blaine said, grinning.

Myra stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"I'm not that young!" she giggled.

"Ah, yes. Right this way, Miss." Blaine said, bowing in mock respect.

"I'm not that old either." She said. "And it's Myra to you,_ Blaine_."

They continued to joke as they walked up the steep hill. Uncle Andrew walked ahead of them, accompanied by Mace who seemed to be helping him along. As Myra observed the pair she noticed a couple of odd details. Like the way they were talking in low voice, as though they were scared of being over heard. Or the way Mace kept pushing his dark curly locks behind his ear nervously. She continued to observe them up the rest of the hill until her attention was caught by what must have been the most beautiful house she had ever seen.

"Wow! Your house is moby, Uncle Andrew!" Myra said in awe.

Blaine chuckled at this but Myra paid him no heed. She was too busy taking in every inch of the massive house in front of her, from the neatly tiled roof to the exquisite garden that surrounded it. It was a cream-colored house and looked like a much larger version of the guard shack. The sun reflected off the gleaming black tiles of the roof. Yellow curtains could be seen through each of the many windows and the garden seemed to be a sea of yellow with some red splashes here and there. Myra squinted at the flowerbeds and blinked, trying to focus her eyes.

"Um, Blaine?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the strange flowers. "Why are all the stems blue?"

And indeed, there was not a hint of green anywhere in the garden or anywhere else for that matter. This puzzled Myra to no end. Blaine grinned and pushed her slightly to get her to start moving toward the house but didn't answer. As they came closer, the shear size of the house hit Myra full force. There had to be at least five floors!

'And what's with all these badgers?' she thought as she spied yet another shiny-clawed statue.

There were badgers everywhere: on the roof, placed on pedestals in the garden. There was even a badger in the center of the grand old fountain that stood in between them and the front door. Uncle Andrew stopped by this fountain and turned to face Myra.

"Now, Miss Jackson…"

"Myra." Myra interrupted.

Her uncle glared at her.

"Sorry." She blushed and scuffed the ground, sheepishly.

He cleared his throat and began again.

"Miss Jackson, you will be staying here for quite some time so I believe we must go over a couple rules." He said, adjusting his spectacles.

Myra glanced at Blaine who shrugged apologetically.

"First of all, you will never go into my room, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Myra said, obediently.

He raised and eyebrow at her but didn't complain about the formality.

"You will also do as you are told. If either I or Miss Sydney tell you to do something, you will do it, no questions asked."

"Um… who's Miss Sydney?" Myra asked, cautiously.

"You'll see." Blaine whispered in her ear.

She nodded and looked at her uncle expectantly.

"Lastly, mind the kumiho."

"The what-now?" Myra asked, but her uncle just turned back to the house.

She glanced at Blaine who just shook his head, just barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes though not in an unkind way. They reached the door and Myra just had time to glance at the badger claw door knocker before it was swung open to reveal a kind-looking middle-aged woman whose shiny black curls were pulled back into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. She was wearing a white blouse, black skirt and shoes, and a yellow tie, like the men but she also wore a pale yellow apron with black lace around the edges and a black pocket with her name stitched on it. Both her tie and her apron bore the name Sydney. She smiled at them and opened the door more so they could all come in.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Curdle." She said politely in a thick Scottish accent, and then turned to smile kindly at Myra. "Ah, and you must be Miss Jackson."

"Myra, yes." Myra answered smiling at her shyly.

"Well, pleasure having you here." She said, giving a slight curtsy. "I'm Miss Sydney, by the way. Just call if you need anything at all."

"Thank you." Myra called back at her as Blaine hurried her down a hall to the left of the door.

"Come, come now, Myra." Blaine babbled as he kept pushing her down the hall. "We must get you situated."

They turned left, then another left, then right, and then yet another left, with no time to spare for sightseeing, until they screeched to a halt in front of a large mahogany door. A badger was delicately painted on the smooth surface in an unrecognizable color and underneath _Myra _glittered gold. Blaine opened the door and held it open for her. She walked into a large room and gasped for the third time that day. She turned to Blaine, unable to wipe the happy smile off her face.

"Welcome home, Myra." Blaine said, smiling. "And, I say this for the rest as well, we are happy to have you here."

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**A/N: Well, there you go! Hope you liked it! And, before you say anything, I know I made a _Glee_ reference with the whole 'Kurt & Blaine' thing but I was out of ideas for names and it was all I could come up with. Just a disclaimer: Blaine and Nick are not in a relationship, nor will they ever be. I'm sorry, that's just the way it is. Anyway, on a lighter note, I'll post the last sub-chapter for chapter one either next week or late this week. I'm hoping to put myself on a schedule, but I'm not sure if that's going to work out. ;) Oh, and don't forget! Reviews are love and I love reviews! You may even get a cookie out of it! Possibly not... but you will probably get major brownie points! You know, the usual. :) **


	3. The Badger House: Sub-chapter: 3

**A/N: Hey, guys! First off, shout-outs! Shout out to PhoenixE27119812 (wow, really long name)! Thank you so much for your review and message! Major brownie points for you, my friend. Here, have some brownies: [:] [:] (the dot are M&M's 'cause they're yummy!). And, because you have and awesome name, bluemuffin22! Your name reminds me of something Percy Jackson would like! YAY, BLUE FOOD! Sorry, no brownies for you but maybe if you are the first to review on this chapter, you'll get some while they're hot! So, without further ado: THE LAST SUB-CHAPTER (!)... for chapter 1... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... but he's not even in this story... so... *sigh* okay, okay. They all belong to J.K. Rowling... but they're not in this chapter so... yeah...**

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_Sub-Ch.3: Mind the Kimiho_

And with that said, he exited the room, leaving Myra to explore her new home. The room was circular and with a fire crackling invitingly in the fireplace to the left of the doorway. Two large fluffy armchairs sat on either side of an equally fluffy loveseat, all of which surround the fireplace. Two doors stood on both sides of a large stained-glass window, depicting a large lake with little people (they all looked to be adults) around it in groups and a cabin that stood on the boarder of dark, green forest. The picture moved of course, Myra had seen such things when she visited relatives with her parents, but that didn't stop her from running over to it and looking at the details in awe. A large creature with massive tentacles drifted in the lake. Lights in the cabin flickered every now and then and the forest rustled in the wind. She moved her attention to the mantel of the fairly large fireplace. As she had come to suspect, a painting of a badger took up most of the wall space above it and an ornate golden clock, also in the shape of a badger, stood underneath. More badgers could be seen in odd places. A stone badger paperweight sat on one desk in a corner. The rug in front of the fireplace was made of faux badger skin. Even the cushions on the couch were covered in the fake fur, the exception being a good-sized, rounded one that sat on the far corner of the couch.

She walked over to the odd cushion and stroked it. It giggled at her touch, making her jump away quickly. After a moment, she gingerly took a few steps forward. She poked the thing and retreated quickly. The result was an indignant yipping noise and the pillow unwound to reveal a snow white fox. The fox had large ears that, at the moment, were pressed onto its head in annoyance. The fox's fur was quite disheveled, as though it had had a very rough nights sleep, but its dark blue eyes looked wide awake. It narrowed its eyes at the girl then stood, stretched and hopped off the couch, making noises that sounded as thought it was grumbling to itself. It walked over to Myra and circled around her with a judgmental eye. She counted one, two, three tails before the animal stopped moving and sat, staring up at her.

"A three tailed fox?" she muttered.

The fox yelped and a worried look came over its face. Myra watched as it counted out nine tails carefully. When it was done, it sighed in relief.

"_You had me worried for a moment, miss."_

The male voice reverberated in her head making her yelp; much like the fox had done.

"_Quite frankly, it's embarrassing to have less then five."_

"You?" Myra asked, her eyes falling on the fox. "Are you?"

He shook his head and jumped back onto the couch, lightly.

"_Is it really that alarming?"_ the fox asked, gently tilting it's head and looking up at Myra with its big, babyish eyes.

"Do you have a name?" Myra asked, inching closer to the creature.

"_I'm Justin." _

He smiled and offered the fox version of a bow. Myra smiled and curtsied.

"I'm Myra, Andrew's niece."

"_Really?"_

"Yeah! Um, wait. Why are you in my room?" Myra asked.

"_Because I live here?"_ the fox answered.

He seemed to be tiring of their little game of Twenty Questions. His voice held a sarcastic undertone. Myra stared blankly at the fox, her mind working furiously. Why would her uncle put her in a room that he knew was occupied? Surely there were other rooms in the mansion. She was suddenly struck by the thought that maybe Justin was the thing her uncle had warned her about. The kimono, or whatever he had called it.

"_Hey, miss!" _

"Hmm?"

She jumped and shrieked, springing off the couch and across the room in a flash. Where the fox had been only moments before, a white-haired, dark blue-eyed boy who looked around sixteen crouched, a crooked smile on his face.

"What?" she stuttered, flabbergast. "Who…"

"I thought we went through this already." The boy had retracted his mind from Myra's and was talking normally. He rolled his eyes and sat normally. "Justin."

He pointed to himself.

"Miss." He pointed to Myra.

"Myra." She corrected him.

The boy shook his head.

"Miss. You are my mistress so I must call you Miss."

"What?"

Myra just stared at the strange boy.

"Look," Justin sighed and ran a hand through his fluffy hair. "I'm not from here. I'm from Japan originally and I have no idea…"

"Wait, Japan?" Myra asked. "But you don't look the slightest bit…"

"I know, I know!" He snapped.

"Why?" She asked, cautiously sitting back next to him.

"Birth defect?" he guessed, shrugging. "But anyway, as I was saying, I have no idea how I got here but I do know that Curdle, your uncle, was kind enough to let me have a room here at the mansion. I owe him. So I promised to be your… err… guardian, per say."

"You're my pet, aren't you?" Myra smirked.

It wasn't a question.

"Uh… no… I guess… well, he didn't say those exact words." Justin pouted slightly, crossed his arms and refused to look Myra in the eye.

"So you're like a guard dog?" she asked. "Or Aslan, minus the beard. Or like that one thing in that one book, I can't quite remember what it was called. I think it was…"

"Yes! Yes!" he laughed. "I'm like that!"

"So I have a pet… what are you again? A kimono? A kimho-thingy?"

"A kumiho?" Justin cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that! Oh, I'm so happy!" She squealed.

"Well, yes. But I won't always be in the form you saw before or this one." He plucked at his shirt. "I'm mostly going to be in this form."

The boy disappeared and a slim, white cat with the innocent blue eyes and the large ears of the fox appeared in his place.

"Awe. You're so cute!" Myra slid off the couch, knelt in front of the cat that had rolled its large eyes at her cooing, and scratched him behind one of his surprisingly soft ears and under his chin.

He put a small paw up to block the affectionate motion but the defense had been weak and he was purring at her touch in a second.

"I used to have a cat, back in Cali. Her name was Tabby but she ran away." Myra sighed. "We found her a couple months later but she had already grown really attached to a couple and their daughter. So we let them have her. I'm more attached to dogs personally and the family was nice enough. They were the Manner's, I think. But their daughter, she's around my age, was completely crazy about pirates. Well, don't judge a book by its cover, I guess."

She yawned and her petting slowed. She crawled onto the couch and was half asleep in a moment. Yes, she was excited to be there and could hardly wait to explore her new home but the long trip from California had begun to take its toll on her.

"Thanks, Justin." She muttered, as her eyes closed automatically.

"_For what?" _He asked, quietly.

"For being nice."

And with that, Myra fell asleep. For the first time that day, she was happy to be in England.

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**A/N: I know, cheese ending. :/ I hope you liked it! I-I liked it... *shuffles nervously* Any-whovian, I'd like to take this moment to remind you guys that: Reviews are love and I love reviews! Come on... you know you want to... you'll get something sweet out of it... :3 Oh, well. See all y'all later! **

**-JR **


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